


haircut.

by miss_brown_eyes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_brown_eyes/pseuds/miss_brown_eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane has no idea how Tony Stark came across information regarding her familiarity with a pair of scissors, but the day doesn't end all in vain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	haircut.

Jane stood in the middle of the large kitchen located at the newly constructed Avengers compound, an apron in one hand and an electric razor in the other.

“You want me to do what?” she exclaimed angrily, waving the object at Tony Stark, who backed up a full step, raising his hands in defense.

“Whoa there Foster, put the razor down first.”

Rolling her eyes, she slammed the piece of equipment down in frustration and bounded toward the millionaire, fully prepared to attack him, with or without his Iron Man suit. She could tell he saw the fire in her eyes with the way he took another step backward.

“Listen to me Stark, I came here under the impression that I was helping you finish installing the observatory telescopes, not cut the Avengers damn hair!” She could not believe he had tricked her into coming to the facility when she had other far more important matters to tend to like her pressing research, or the fact that she had left her untrustworthy intern all alone with said research. Jane had not been this livid since Darcy had accidentally shredded the wrong stack of papers.

“Your file specifically stated that you knew how to cut hair. What could I do?” Tony shrugged innocently.

Her mouth fell open in a halfway gape. “I mean, sure I cut Erik’s hair every now and then, but that hardly qualifies me as an expert. Besides, I cannot imagine hiring an actual stylist would hurt your checkbook too badly.” Where did these agents even find information regarding whether or not a person could cut hair? Suddenly, Jane pictured Coulson, peeping through her New Mexico residence with a pair of binoculars, taking notes as she trimmed Erik’s hair with a pair of old scissors.

“You seem to have forgotten I just paid for this entire facility, Miss Foster. The checkbook is now wheezing,” he stated with a shrugged. “Plus you owe me a favor.” He began inching steadily toward the doorframe.

“Excuse me? I don’t owe you any—“ Jane’s next rant is stopped short when a man with shaggy brown hair entered the space.

“Thanks so much, Jane. You’re a gem!” Tony hurriedly added, flashing her a pearly white smile and a thumbs up, then he darted out of the door.

She began to contemplate leaving the kitchen and hiding until she could find a way out of the compound. Her thoughts were cut short when the man spoke up.

“You the person cutting hair?”

She gave him a defeated look. “You could say that. Go ahead. Take a seat.” She motioned to the stool in front of her. If his haircut stunk, Jane would not be the one to blame. Tony had been warned that this was not her forte.

“So what were you thinking?” she asked, wrapping the apron around his neck and snapping the button into place.

“Honestly, I don’t care. Just something to get this hair out of my face.”

Okay, easy enough, Jane figured, and after assessing the locks she had to work with, she picked up the scissors lying on the counter and began snipping away at his hair. She decided to go for something short on the sides and perhaps a bit longer on top.

“The name is Bucky, by the way. I haven’t seen you around before. Are you one of the agents that work for the organization?”

Snip, snip, snip.

“Oh no. Gosh no. I’m Jane Foster. The backstory as to how Stark and I know each other is a long one to say the least. I’m an astrophysicist.” The left side of his head was beginning to look a tad shorter than his right so she moved onto the right side to even out the length.

“I’m a good listener,” the man quipped with a smile.

So, against her better judgement, she ended up telling him the whole story, measuring his hair meticulously as she went. Jane attempted to include all the details she could remember—a god falling out of the sky, bifrost bridges, chitauri, a mysterious substance known as aether that invaded her body, the god who fell out of the sky’s deranged brother, the tesseract, infinity gems—she gave him the whole nine yards. Excluding some of the more personal details, of course.

By the time she had finished, his hair was nearly complete as well, which turned out significantly finer than she could have ever hoped for. Stark had gone above and beyond with the extra products he had included in the array of hair supplies on the counter. She grabbed a container containing a waxy substance that she had never exactly used before; however, she decided to test the foreign product on Bucky’s hair.

He was not kidding when he informed her that he was a good listener. She got through the entire story with only a nod or laugh here and there from him. Jane liked to talk, but pouring out the past few years of her life to this random stranger came as a surprise. Now standing in front of him, she considered her work that also happened to be his hair. Not too bad, she thought. She leaned forward and brushed a few strands that had fallen back into their respective spots. Although the strands definitely did not detract from his appearance. His face was not exactly an open book, yet his eyes gleamed blue with a look she typically found in her own brown hues. Interesting.

“Well, I think I’m done. Take a look. I’m sorry in advance if you hate it.” Handing him a mirror, she watched as he tilted his head at different angles and examined his newly cut hair.

“Wow, you did a great job,” he said with another grin spreading across his face. “I don’t think I’ve looked this good since the 40s.”

“Wait, what—“ Jane began in confusion, her sentence being stopped short by Steve Rogers himself entering.

“Looking good bud,” he remarked as he slapped his friend on the shoulder affectionately. “Think it’s my turn now.”

Jane had a creeping suspicion that she had a long day ahead of her.

Bucky was almost out the door when he looked over his shoulder and added, “I can tell you all about the 40s sometime if you want, Jane.”

“I think I’d like that,” she beamed, fastening the apron around Steve.

If only she had caught the wink and waggly eyebrows Cap flashed toward Bucky.

**Author's Note:**

> there's a chance this may be continued so stay tuned, my friends.


End file.
